


The Ginger Heart

by martianapplecrumble



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, Winter At Kaer Morhen, Witcher traditions, a bit of hurt/comfort, baking together, brief mentions of Yennefer and Triss, gingerbread, holiday fluff, partly outsider POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28292529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martianapplecrumble/pseuds/martianapplecrumble
Summary: Geralt takes longer than usual to arrive to Kaer Morhen, and Eskel and Lambert start to get worried. But it turns out, he is late because he brought a guest with him - a beautiful cheerful bard, with whom he is secretly in love. And what is better than confessing to him through a soft Witcher tradition?
Relationships: Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 239
Collections: The Witcher Secret Santa 2020





	The Ginger Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [27dis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dis/gifts).



> To my giftee: I wish you happy holidays, and hope all goes well for you in 2021 🎄

"Geralt's taking long to arrive this year," Lambert said, taking a swig from his jug of ale.

The cold wind was whistling in the chimney pipes, in the empty stone halls. Kaer Morhen felt old and lonely - but not in the dining hall on the ground floor. Currently it was occupied by two witchers, one young and one slightly older, who sat in front of the crackling fire, sipping warm ale and talking. They haven't seen each other for so long, after all, and both of them felt calm and at peace. Even Lambert, who was usually restless.

"Is he coming at all this year?" Eskel mused, taking a bite of freshly baked bread. "Maybe he's staying in Vengerberg with Yennefer, like five years ago?"

Lambert winced. "Doubt it. He hardly talked about her after that, and when I asked..."

"Yeah, he didn't seem happy," Eskel nodded. "Hope it's not something serious. Like an injury, or..."

He was interrupted with a loud BANG. They both jumped in surprise.

"The fuck was that?!" Lambert shouted.

"Dunno. I think it came from the window. Lemme check," Eskel got up to his feet and walked to one of the castle's windows, beautifully painted with frost patterns. He opened it, hesitantly, letting in a gust of freezing cold wind, some snowflakes, and one very ruffled pigeon.

Wait, a pigeon?

"Eskel!! If you're done, for the love of fuck, close the window!" Lambert shouted.

Eskel closed it firmly, hearing Lambert grumble in a distance. So, back to the pigeon.

The older witcher raised the bird. It was snow white, and its feathers were soft and so cold that it was unclear how the pigeon survived at all.

"Gotta warm you up," Eskel murmured and carried the poor creature to the fireplace.

"The fuck is that?" Lambert asked once Eskel was back with him by the fire.

"A pigeon, I think. Seems like the kind royal folks use to deliver mail," Eskel said, gently petting the bird's feathers. It let out a soft cooing noise.

"Hope it's not Geralt," Lambert shook his head.

"My medallion doesn't vibrate. I doubt it," Eskel mused softly.

It was only then that he noticed a letter attached to the bird's foot.

"Hey Lambert, look," Eskel nudged him gently.

"Whoa! Geralt sent us a letter? Wonder what's inside..."

Five minutes later, they were both reading the letter which went as follows:

" _Eskel and Lambert,_

_Please don't worry about my coming to Kaer Morhen late. I'm fine, just need to finish some stuff. Will be there in two weeks. I also want to warn you that I'm bringing a guest with me. So, Lambert, please wash your socks._

_Best,_

_Geralt_ "

"What's wrong with my socks?!" Lambert snapped.

"No idea, actually... and what about the guest part?"

Lambert let out a pained groan.

"Please, not Yennefer..."

"It could be Triss," Eskel tried to reassure him, putting a hand on the other's shoulder.

"Merigold isn't much better!" Lambert sighed in despair. "Sorceresses suck, Eskel. Always bossing everyone around. Why does Geralt even like them so much? Do they suck so good, Eskel?"

Eskel couldn't help but chuckle.

"C'mon, Lamb," he smiled a little, hugging the grumpy witcher by the shoulders. "We handled this before and we can handle this now."

***

Two weeks had passed. In spite of both witchers' reluctance to get rid of the mess in the castle, they cleaned the dining hall and the entire main room and put some fresh furs near the fireplace. Eskel also changed the sheets on the bed in the guest room - a huge bed he and Lambert made themselves, the best bed in Kaer Morhen - and prepared a nice hot meal for all four of them.

Since the morning, Lambert was on the balcony, keeping a watch on the road that led to the castle. It was cold, yes, but a thick black coat collared with fur made is bearable. And the view was beautiful enough: it was one of those rare sunny days, and all the snow around Kaer Morhen was glistening, and everything was bright and brought some peace to Lambert's soul.

Well, last moments of peace until one of the bossy sorceresses would start ordering them around. To make a hot bath (as if hot springs weren't good enough!), to put her stuff in her room, to do this, to do that.

Lambert's unhappy thoughts were interrupted as he saw two people appear on the road. Both were riding horses: one brick brown with a white stripe on the face, and the other light grey. The man on the brown horse was wearing a black cloak, and Lambert was sure that it was Geralt. The other person, however, he couldn't tell. They were too far away, and the only thing Lambert could see was that they had an emerald coat adorned with fur. The hood covered the person's head, but, judging by the colour of the coat, it wasn't Yennefer. Merigold, most likely.

Lambert rushed downstairs.

"Eskel!!! ESKEL!!!!"

"What happen'd?" Eskel raised his head from the spicy sauce he was stirring.

"It's Merigold," Lambert panted, stopping at the kitchen door. "And they're coming!"

"Okay, okay, that's good news. Let's go meet them at the main gates," Eskel nodded, hastily wiping his hands on the apron and putting on a cloak.

They were at the gates just by the time the two arrived. Once Geralt got off his horse, Eskel pulled him in for a brotherly hug.

"Long time no see, Wolf," he smiled.

Lambert joined in for the cuddles too, disregarding the other rider completely. It was Merigold anyway. Who else could it be?

He was prepared to hear a snide remark about him being impolite, put instead, he heard a small cough and a soft, polite, unfamiliar voice.

"You must be Eskel and Lambert, Geralt's fellow wolves!"

Lambert turned around, and finally realised that Geralt's companion was not Triss Merigold. Nor was it a sorceress. Not a woman at all.

Instead, it was a man with brown hair and cornflower-blue eyes, just a little shorter than Lambert. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, and he was wearing an emerald cloak all right - it looked very good on him.

The man smiled at him and offered a handshake, which Lambert accepted. He then went on to greet Eskel.

"Oh, right. Everyone, meet Jaskier, my-" Geralt paused a little, and was it Lambert's imagination or were his cheeks a little pink? "My close friend, and a famous bard."

"The most famous on the Continent," the man - Jaskier - said with a little bow.

"Famous for what? The number of people you fucked?" Lambert couldn't help but bite at the man's ego.

"For that too," Jaskier raised his head, proud. "Can you say the same about yourself? Pleasure to meet you, in any case, you must be Lambert!"

Lambert, to be honest, was taken aback. Geralt let out a laugh, which earned him a deathly glare from the raven-haired witcher.

"And I'm Eskel," Eskel nodded. "C'mon, enough freezin' your tongues outside. Let's go get warm. And I'll lead the horses to the stables."

Geralt grabbed the bags - both his and Jaskier's - and carried them to the castle, while Jaskier trotted after him with what looked like a lute case on his back.

"What did you put in your bag? Rocks?" Geralt asked him with displeasure.

"It's a secret. You will find out later, I promise," Jaskier winked at him.

Lambert gave Eskel a sad look and went to serve dinner. It was going to be a long winter.

***

Two more weeks had passed. Jaskier got used to the castle, and the castle got used to him. Even Lambert, who was pissed at the bard at first, became friends with him. After all, he told amazing stories, and eagerly listened to theirs and made them into songs. And, he was the perfect partner for sarcasm battles.

Also, Lambert noticed something else.

He noticed how on the first night, Jaskier made a point that it was "too cold" for him to sleep in the guest room alone, and instead of offering some extra furs, Geralt proposed to share the bed with him. "We have to do it all the time on the Path anyway," he argued, hiding his gaze.

Which meant they travelled together. The fact that Geralt avoided solitude was unusual in general.

After that, Geralt earned the nickname of "bedwarmer" from Lambert.

Lambert also noticed that Geralt blushed a lot when it came to Jaskier. Again, something hardly heard of among witchers. And that he constantly spoke of the bard when he wasn't around. And when the three witchers traded stories, many of Geralt's included Jaskier. And it was often about his soft hands, and soothing voice, and his support when things got rough for Geralt. Jaskier, for his part, seemed to always want to touch Geralt. A pat on the back, a casual hand on the shoulder, hugs whenever possible, wiping sauce off the cheek...

One didn't need to be a genius to realise that Geralt was head over heels in love with this bard. And the other way around, too.

And Eskel seemed to notice it as well.

"Look, Geralt," he said one night, while Jaskier was upstairs, busy composing a new ballad - most likely about Kaer Morhen. "Let's get to the point - you and Jaskier, you gonna do anything about it?"

Geralt choked on his ale.

"What?! There's nothing between us!"

"Yet," Lambert pointed out.

"Shut up, Lambert."

"No way, Wolf. We all see it, we all know it. Hey look, Eskel, even now he's blushing!"

Eskel chuckled. "Don't push him, Lambert. We aren't your enemies, Geralt. We just want to help."

Geralt sighed. "There're so many beautiful people all around him. There's no way it's mutual."

"So he asked you to warm his bed just for the fun," Lambert snickered.

"Lambert!"

"Okay, okay," Lambert raised his hands in defence. "Have you tried giving him hints?"

"Hm," Geralt said, deep in thought. "Well, I- I protect him. Help him when he needs it. Buy him stuff sometimes."

"Seems legit," Eskel nodded. "But he can easily see these as friendly gestures. Anything else?"

"At least some flirting," Lambert offered.

"It'd be too obvious," Geralt sighed. "I'll just disgust him."

"Geralt, he probably thinks the same about you," Eskel pointed out.

"Well, I- I wanted to give him the Ginger heart," Geralt whispered, his gaze fixed on the table. "Is this good enough?"

Lambert considered this. "It is," he decided. "But you do understand that the bard doesn't know our traditions, right?"

***

"Are we going to have a Yule tree?" Jaskier asked, sipping raspberry tea and munching on Eskel's token shortbread.

"Yeah, sure. We'll get one tomorrow," Eskel nodded.

"Oh, that's cool! Back when I was a boy, we always had a huge tree with glass figurines on it... magnificent! And do witchers have any holiday traditions?" Jaskier wondered, always curious.

"Well, there's the tradition of Ginger Heart," Eskel began, nursing a huge cup in his hands and smiling. "Back when we were boys, we'd all bake gingerbread cookies for Yule and decorate the Yule tree with them - and if someone had a crush on another boy, they could make a heart with the boy's name on it and put it on the tree. It was then up to the other boy to decide who made the heart for him, unless the giver wished to confess it himself."

Lambert nodded. Of course, when they were children, they usually just made hearts for their friends. But when they became teenage witchers, things got more intense. Lambert, for his part, made such a heart twice. Once for Walter, a boy from his group, when he was fourteen. And the second time, for Eskel, three years ago.

"Wow, this is such a sweet tradition!" Jaskier smiled. "We baked the cookies too, but we never had anything romantic to go with it!"

"That's not it," Lambert added. "The one who got the cookie could respond to the feelings. If they're mutual, you split the cookie and give the other person a half. If not, you can eat it yourself, or, well, just chuck it if you really hate that someone..."

Jaskier nodded. "If Valdo Marx ever gave me such a cookie, I would throw it to his appalling excuse of a face!"

Geralt let out a laugh. Eskel and Lambert exchanged looks. Geralt rarely laughed in front of someone who wasn't them, let alone from something that small.

"He probably got chronic hiccups from all these insults you give him," Geralt smirked.

"Oh yes, I surely hope!" Jaskier nodded, proudly.

***

It was one thing to bake gingerbread cookies. That was easy, as long as Eskel did the dough. Somehow when it was another witcher, it was sure to come out sticky, dry, crumbly or another state of uneatable. The problem was 1. making sure Lambert doesn't get too playful with the icing and 2. most importantly, keeping Jaskier out of the kitchen.

The bard was a creature of a curious nature. So obviously, once he caught the smell of ginger and cinnamon, he popped his nose into the castle kitchen.

"You are making gingerbread!"

"We are," Eskel begrudgingly admitted. Well, it was kind of obvious, wasn't it?

"I want to help too!" Jaskier pouted. Eskel and Geralt exchanged looks. Eventually, Geralt nodded.

"Okay, okay," Eskel said. "Come join us!"

From the corner of his eye, he saw Geralt hide a large gingerbread heart in his apron pocket.

Jaskier beamed and took a place by Lambert, who was busy cutting out dicks with a cutter he probably made himself.

The bard soon busied himself with cutting out squares and rectangles (Eskel had no idea what they were for), and Yule trees, chattering and talking and laughing. Occasionally, the bard threw obvious looks at Geralt's naked forearms, practicality smelling of lust. Geralt, however, was too busy with his baking to notice.

Eskel rolled his eyes. But not before he saw Jaskier cut out a heart as well.

"What are the rectangles for?" Lambert questioned.

Instead of answering aloud, Jaskier whispered something into his ear. Lambert's eyes widened, and by the smirk on his face Eskel understood that this was somehow connected to Geralt.

But how?

They found out soon enough.

***

"Ugh!" the bard yelled, chucking the tube of icing on the table. "That's so stupid!"

Geralt's heart sank. He immediately rushed to him, dropping his own tube.

"Jaskier? What's wrong?!"

Jaskier's beautiful face was full of despair as he gestured at the pile of gingerbread and icing on the plate in front of him. Geralt wasn't sure what it was, but it did look like-

"A house?"

"I wanted to make it for you... a beautiful one! Like the ones the Lettenhove baker made every year... I haven't made these in years, and I..."

Jaskier gave a weak wave of his hand and lowered his head, tears in his eyes.

Geralt, however, wasn't thinking about the state of the construction. What was on his mind was-

"You made this... for me?" he asked, quietly.

"Y-yeah... I mean, it's uglier than Valdo Marx's ass, so..."

"Jaskier."

As gently as he could, Geralt took the bard's hands, making these huge cornflower-blue eyes look at him. It hurt him to see tears in them.

"I love it."

Jaskier let out a weak chuckle. "You're lying."

"I'm not. You made it for me. I love it," Geralt smiled a little, trying to provide some reassurance for the bard whom he- yes, loved.

It was the best gift for the witcher when Jaskier smiled back.

"Okay, I- I believe you. Thank you, Geralt."

"No, Jaskier. Thank you," Geralt smiled at him. He took one of the gingerbread rectangles and took a bite off it, closing his eyes as the cookie melted in his mouth.

"It's amazing," he nodded, looking at Jaskier.

And it was so heart-warming to see the bard beam at him.

Jaskier took a piece too, tasting it, and smudging some icing on his soft cheek. Damn, how much Geralt wanted to lick it off, or at least wipe it with his finger. But instead, he put some more icing on his finger and smudged it on the tip of Jaskier's nose.

Jaskier blinked.

"Oi! Geralt!" he exclaimed in fake offence. Geralt answered with a shrug and a chuckle.

And got a smudge of icing on his cheek in return.

Soon, they were both covering each other with icing and laughing, Jaskier having fully forgotten about his cooking failure.

Neither of them took notice of the two other witchers, who were looking at the scene with amusement. And fondness.

Well, until Lambert smudged Eskel's cheek with icing, too.

***

The next day, when Jaskier walked down the stairs from his (well, and Geralt's) room, the first thing he saw was a huge Yule tree.

It stood proudly in the corner near the dining table, green and large and fluffy. And it was beautifully decorated with gingerbread cookies.

There were Yule trees. People. Deer. Wolf medallions. Lambert's dicks. Stars.

And one heart.

Jaskier's breath hitched. He sensed who it could be for. And who it could be from.

Carefully, he turned the heart over. And surely, there it was, written out in icing.

" _To: Jaskier_ "

His own heart beating too fast, Jaskier turned his head, only to see Geralt standing in the doorway, his cheeks pink, his eyes seemingly searching for something on the ceiling.

Hardly believing it was real, Jaskier walked up to him.

"Geralt," he said, quietly. "Is this from you?"

"Uh," Geralt replied, sheepishly, cheeks turning even more pink. Gee, the blush suited him so well. "Um... yes."

"Oh," Jaskier couldn't hold in the happiness that started bubbling in his chest. For once, he was at a loss of words. Geralt... loved him back. He did! He made a Witcher confession for him! "I- thank you, Geralt. I... got something for you too."

With a smile, he reached into the pocket of his doublet and took out a gingerbread heart of his own. Ornate with blue icing, it said "Geralt" in neat cursive letters.

The smile that appeared on Geralt's face was the most gorgeous thing Jaskier had ever seen.

They broke their cookies in half and exchanged them again, and ate them together, smiling and giggling like children. And the first kiss the two of them shared was sweeter than all the gingerbread cookies in the world.

Behind one of the columns, Eskel and Lambert exchanged knowing smiles.


End file.
